Bête Noire
by Sonenclar
Summary: "Welcome back." I heard myself saying and darkness was all that mattered.


**Bête Noire**

**(Gray P.)**

Have you ever thought about things like light and darkness?

Why do people believe they need light? Why do people yearn for bright places? Why do they wither when they are lost in the dark? Why do they think they are safe under the sunlight?

Light and darkness… I couldn't believe in either of them. I didn't care about light and its brightness; I did not care about darkness and its sorrow. I couldn't care less about days and nights or the length of time.

I didn't even know why I should think about those subjects in the first place. It was just one of those things I did not allow myself to worry about. They were one of those trivial things that I had given up a long time ago. Common sense was always with me, so looking for answers had become pointless.

It wasn't because I had lost hope and I just wanted to throw my life away; I just chose something else. In my mind, the only priority I had was to find that person. All my actions, all the fights I put myself in, all the scars I got, everything I did had the solely purpose of getting closer to that person.

That was the reason why I didn't rely on anyone near me and kept some distance from others. I was sure I could do everything by myself; I assured myself that it was fine to be alone.

Then, for some reason, Allen Walker dared to come into my life.

That newcomer had nothing to do with me. The only things that intrigued me in the beginning were his eyes. Whenever Allen looked at something, his eyes showed neither fear nor doubts. Those willful eyes were not afraid of fighting for what their owner believed in, especially when it came to defending others from me.

Allen was the first person that had been able to stand against me. It didn't matter if I was arguing about trivial things. From the moment our eyes met, we would always fight.

Since I recognized his very existence, I knew it would be a matter of time before he fell like the others before him. I assumed he was exactly like those kind-hearted bastards that had nothing but words and promises of big acts.

Somehow, _somehow_, he proved me wrong and I started to hate him for that. Hate was one of the only emotions I did not hold back. It was easier to isolate myself and distribute indifference than to establish any kind of relationship with others.

The fact that I completely loathed him made it difficult for me to understand how "it" begun. That hatred gave me trouble when I tried to take in how the idea of "us" had been developed.

I wasn't a complete fool and neither was Allen. We both knew that having feelings for someone was out of question for people like us, exorcists. We could not be weak because of what and who we represented. We stood for the Black Order; we were the ones who could fight against the Earl and the akuma.

We didn't have time to spend on relationship. We knew that even though feelings can make someone stronger, they can also make that person extremely vulnerable because feelings cannot be completely restrained. They are bound to develop and trap people. Relationships can eventually suffocate the ones involved in it.

Since everything was clear for Allen and me, I didn't comprehend why we still insisted in meeting each other. We were aware of the consequences and we kept in mind that those sorts of events were not supposed to last. What was occurring between us would cease to exist as soon as our duties as exorcists were at risk.

Still, we kept meeting each other.

I could say that meeting Allen was nothing but a childish attempt to kill time. It was a foolish way to exchange warmth, a convenient way to stay together for a fraction of time. It was nothing but a messy way of joining bodies together, an unique way of seeing legs, arms, hands, fingers and lips trying to work together in order to achieve something.

I could also classify it as a strange way of doing things.

Legs would be touched countless times while moans would come out of one's mouth, without fear or uncertainty. Arms would be everywhere, lost in all the confusion and unlike movements that would be happening.

Hands would look for any piece of skin that they could reach for, an attempt to increase all the excitement that would already exist between us. Fingers would scratch at any sign of flesh and leave marks on both bodies, hurriedly and without control. Lips would collide, hunger for more, trying to cover everything, every single spot.

Legs, arms, hands, fingers and lips would never care about the following day. There weren't any thoughts about the next morning in that room; the night and the darkness were ours.

Nevertheless, those meetings – all of it – were never supposed to exist. That was the reason why I had never reached out for his hand before he left. That was why he had never allowed himself to stay more than necessary. That was why we did not exchange meaningful words, the reason why we did not look at each other's eyes for long periods of time.

I could not blame him for his decisions and neither could he.

I strongly believed that our encounters were like ripples in a calm lake. We were like little kids, throwing stones into that peaceful lake, just waiting for the waves to become bigger. However, for us, it was like we were waiting until those waves would eventually crush us, until we drown into that relationship.

I had an ominous feeling but I neglected it as soon as I heard Allen closing the door behind him. It would be one of those so called nights when we would welcome darkness. It would be one of those nights when nothing outside that room would be significant.

"Welcome back." I heard myself saying and darkness was all that mattered.

* * *

Hello everyone! :)

I'm sorry for disappearing, I hope you forgive me. Right now, I'm in Canada and I'm so happy to be here! Anyway, I couldn't believe in myself when I came up with this idea. I think that this story doesn't even seem to have been written by me, but it's mine. :)

The title "Bête Noire" means "person or thing that one particularly dislikes" in French. I thought it was perfect to describe the story and also because Kanda is the one narrating it (I love Yullen!). This is just the first chapter and I really want to write at least two more chapters.

I hope you liked it!

Gray P.


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